A Haunted Past and a Promising Future
by Arianllyn146
Summary: Melanie alias Mercutio survived her wound and eloped with Benvolio: but will the past continue to haunt her? To scar her for life? Can he help her heal her emotional wounds? And where are they going? Find out here!
1. Chapter 1

I do not own **_any_** of the characters from**_Romeo and Juliet_**: they all belong to good 'ol William Shakespeare!!

Alternate Universe Plotline: Mercutio's really a girl named Melanie, who, until a few weeks prior to this fic, had disguised herself as a boy (Mercutio) to hang out with Benvolio, who she fell for four or five years before this. She also survived her wound, and is eloping with Benvolio.

* * *

Benvolio's POV

"Mmph…"

Benvolio woke, hearing the sound of Melanie's muffled mumbling as she slept.

_What's going on here?_ He thought to himself. Then he remembered: they were on the road, headed away from their hometown of Verona. Everyone there thought Melanie (alias Mercutio) was dead, but Benvolio knew better: she'd survived, and as she slowly recovered, they left town. Where they were headed, neither of them knew: maybe Mantua, maybe further away to Genoa, along the coast.

Suddenly, interrupting his silent musing, Melanie started squirming in her sleep. Then she suddenly cried out. He realized that she was having a nightmare from a few weeks ago, when she'd been stabbed by Tybalt. He leaned over and gently shook her by the shoulder:

"Wake up, Melanie: it's just a dream."

* * *

Melanie's POV

"Wake up, Melanie: wake up!"

Someone was shaking her by her shoulder.

"Can't… hold on… much… longer…" she mumbled, still dreaming.

Still, the other voice and shaking persisted, and eventually, she opened one eye and muttered groggily:

"Eh? Benvolio?"

"Are you all right, Melanie?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh, yeah," she said, rubbing her eyes sleepily, "totally fine! But can you not wake me up? Didn't the doctor say that rest was an important part of recovery?"

"Sorry," he murmured.

" It's all right," she yawned, snuggling close against him, "now get some rest, 'cause it's up at sunrise and down at sunset to-morrow!"


	2. Chapter 2

This morning, as the sun slowly begins to rise, I yawn, stretch, and snuggle closer in against Benvolio's chest: opening my eyes, I reach out one hand, softly touching his cheek. I reminisce, thinking back to the first time I met him:

_I was running down the street, chasing after Tybalt: he'd snatched my doll, mocked me for having girlish toys (looking back, I can understand why, because he thought I was a boy. I was crying uncontrollably (a very foolish thing to do when one is running), when I ran headlong into a boy about the same age as me._

_I fell down with a loud huffing noise, still sobbing, dabbing at my eyes every few seconds to keep my tears from running down my face._

_"Are you alright?" he asked gently._

_"Yes," I sniffed, dabbing my eyes again, "I'm just sad."_

_"What happened that made you so sad?" he inquired softly._

_"That big bully Tybalt made fun of me and stole my dolly!" I mumbled, sniffling again._

_"Oh," he said, slightly awkwardly, "well, whaddya say let's go after him and get your doll back?"_

_"You're not gonna make fun of me and say that it's silly and girlish to play with dolls?" I sniffed_

_"No," he whispered, "of course I'm not going to tell you that it's silly!"_

_I was surprised by this boy's kindness: of all the things I could have said at that moment, I sniffled, "What's your name?"_

_"Benvolio Montague," the boy murmured gently, sweeping a stray lock of raven hair out of his face, "what's yours?"_

_"Mercutio," I replied with barely a moment's thought: for as long as I could remember, I'd pretended to be a boy (I was the oldest surviving relative of the Prince: his wife had died in childbirth, and the infant had been stillborn, leaving him without an heir), so it was almost second nature to me now._

_He helped me to my feet, and together we chased after Tybalt. We got my doll back: ever since then, Benvolio and I had been the best of friends. __We had no secrets save one: I was able to keep my secret from him for nearly eleven years. _

_That all changed shortly after I turned fifteen. One night in late August, nearing September, I decided to sleep without any clothes on: late summer in Verona was so hot that wearing even an ordinary nightgown would practically leave me roasting. Unfortunately, Benvolio decided to pay me a surprise visit the next morning: what woke me up was his low-pitched, fairly loud noise of shock. I blushed deep red, striving to cover my bared bosom with my bedsheets, but it was too late: he'd already discovered my secret. _

_Benvolio just stood there for several seconds, his mouth hanging open in shock._

_"Close your mouth, Benvolio," I snapped, embarrassed, "you'll catch flies!"_

_He did, but the look of shock didn't leave his eyes. I blushed even deeper red, pulling the covers up around my torso, all the way up to my neck. I asked him to look away while I put on a nightshirt. He obeyed, and I quickly slipped a long shirt over my head._

_"Well," he remarked when the entire ordeal was over, " that was awkward!"_

_"Don't **ever** tell** anyone** about this," I ordered. I made him promise: this secret was vital to me._

_Although we continued to be truest of friends, something changed between us that day. It took a while before I figured it out: knowing now that I was a girl, he'd fallen in love with me! An even more shocking revalation was that I felt the same about him! Romeo, too, noticed this fact, although I don't think he was able to figure out why his cousin was acting so strangely around me, or the other way around._

_I remembered just a week and some odd days ago, when I'd become engaged in a duel of wits and swords with Tybalt, when I'd been wounded and, supposedly, killed. I'd been in the care of a surgeon for the four days following that, slowly beginning my recovery. After I'd been released to travel, Benvolio and I were wed by Friar Lawrence (what a kind old Friar!) and ran away._

I watch lovingly as Benvolio begins to stir and awaken, the early morning sun playing with the shadows in his soft, back-length, raven-black hair. He doesn't know it, but he looks like an angel when he sleeps.


End file.
